Too Little, Too Late

May 5, 2008
By Rachel Smith, Roslyn, NY

I thought I saw him in the park,
sitting atop the golden arc.
But no, all alone it’s only me,
watching the grievers sipping tea.
I sit atop our favorite hill,
dreaming of dreams that will never be fulfilled.
I lie down on the cool, damp grass
and try to forget feelings past.
What I would give for one more day,
for us to finally be perfectly okay.
Oh how I wish he knew that I loved him so,
but now I guess he will never know.


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